Friday, December 28, 2012

It's the end of the year, and so it's typical that we have New Year's Resolutions. You know, those things you write out and then scrap 2 weeks later. :) Well, I'm going to try my best to stick to mine, so I've set the bar pretty low. Hey, it's how I roll.

My first one is to lose weight. Yes. Typical resolution. Since our move to Nevada, I've gained about 15 pounds. Not too much, but not the direction I was wanting to go. And so, I joined Weight Watchers again, and am going to tell my personal trainer that it's time to kick it in to high gear...which means I will hate her. As long as hating her results in a sweet ass, I don't care.

My second one is to come to this blog and update more. 2012 was a jacked up year, plain as day. I spent 5 months away from my spouse, and another 6 living in the fresh hell known as Box Wonderland in the Weird Apartment Complex. I sold a house, bought another (after 8 f*cking months of waiting), moved 2 times, and spent the first holiday season of my life away from my family. It was a hard year...I mean, we learned a lot about what we can tolerate and what our breaking point is, but I am ready to close the chapter on Tumultuous 2012 and settle in to quiet regular suburban Hot Mess living.

Just to update on the family, Hubs is loving his new job, Sam is thriving in his new autistic kindergarten, and Sloane is excited about her dance school starting back up. The kids got new bikes and scooters for Christmas, so they are busy practicing and honing their skills. I've met a few new friends so the loneliness isn't quite as bad, though I miss the pants off of all my best people from the Midwest. I get to go back and visit in January though (alone!) so I am really excited.

Here's to hoping I can keep my resolutions for 2013. For those of you who love to read this, you can drop me a line or call and keep me honest, too. :) And, I hope that all of your wishes for 2013 are realized, too.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Samuel is in Kindergarten this year, and we were so excited that we finally had a school aged child. Oh, what to do with that whole 3 hours per day of free time??! You guessed it, I eat bon bons and read Us Weekly. :)

I think that Kindergarten has changed in the decades since I was enrolled. I remember Kindergarten being this really cool place with books and a tent! and a cooking station! and we got to learn about a new letter that was turned into a character once per week. Fast forward to 2012, and Kindergarten has CORE STANDARDS to meet. By the end of Kindergarten, the children are expected to not only know all the colors and letters and numbers, but to be able to write them and spell them, too. No super fun "Mr. T" week. No tents. This is some serious business, y'all.

My son is autistic, and though he has an obsession with numbers, letters, reading and counting, he hates to write. Despises it. Would rather go to the doctor than write his name. You can see where this presents a problem for us, as I am "the responsible parent" who has to help with his homework every night. I've taken many a class on ABA therapy, which is a standard for teaching autistic children new skills. We work for treats and movies and celebration. He writes a few letters, and we have a celebration. Sounds fun, eh?

I'd rather go to the doctor than to sit for hours every night and cajole him into sitting and holding a pencil. We do two work sheets and I feel like I need to go run or hit something. It pains me as much as it pains him when the 7 o'clock homework hour comes around. Homework packets? In kindergarten? WTF!

So what should I do? I guess I pop my xanax and tell him to pick up his pencil, and be ready to dole out the M&M's like he just revised a Steinbeck novel. If this is how the homework hour is going to go for the next 12 years of my life, I better get a better prescription and lots of candy. :)

Family, family, family. Hub's entire family was together for our nephews wedding. He's one of 8 brothers and sisters, so that is a huge undertaking that does not happen too often. I believe the last Hubs Mega Family Reunion might have been our wedding almost 7 years ago. I got to see my momma and dad, a few of my nieces and nephews, and sister in law. It was wonderful.

Free State Brewery! Kansas City Barbecue! Yello Sub! Delicious one-of-a-kind foods that I cannot get out here. It was amazingly delicious, and I enjoyed the heck out of it. My scale agrees. :)

Something weird happened though. I became....ready to go "home." It was the first time that I ever considered Las Vegas my home now. I do not live in Kansas....I live in Nevada. And as much as I dislike our current living situation (I lovingly refer to it as Cabrini Green West), I was ready to be back to our normal. Both kids missed school, I missed my gym, and we all missed our routine here. WEIRD, RIGHT?

Maybe this place finally is growing on us. It's promising! I'll take it as a positive. :)

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Well, it took five years to happen, but today my son asked me the dreaded question: "Mom, can we go to Chuck E Cheese?"

God. Why! WHY! What makes that place so awesome? Chunky Cheese and it's ilk are my idea of Hell on Earth. I love good food, I love video games, I love child friendly places...but something about the conglomeration of all of those (minus the good food) with a dirty rat as a spokesperson just gives me the heeby jeebies.

I have learned that every parent has their own version of the "worst place ever." One of my friends has convinced his children that McDonald's is full of scary clowns. Now, at age 7, their oldest has never eaten McDonald's. Age seven and has never had a Happy Meal? That is bananas to me, who stuffed her kids with golden arches food as soon as they were old enough for a road trip. I understand that a lot of other parents don't mind Chunky Cheese. I raise my glass to you. I'd rather have a lobotomy.

And so, I told another of a multitude of Little White Lies. "Sam, that place has really gross food, and the people are scary, and it's loud. I don't think you would like it." (in my mind I was also saying "that disgusting rat costume hasn't been washed since 1984, and I'd rather eat a bike tire than a slice of their pizza).

Seriously. I am a food lover. I am a culture lover. We have taken our kids to some amazing places that a lot of adults wish they had access to. Yet, still, the urge to visit the Chunky Hell on Earth is strong. I thought I raised my kids better than that!

Kudos to the Chunky marketing team though...clearly you are doing something right.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Things here are hard for me. No friends. No family. Yada yada. You know what though? Remove yourself from everything you've ever known for 30 years. It is hard. I know there are new opportunities and people and fun stuff. But I still miss the bajeezus out of everything from home. Yes, my family is here, and we are all together. I also thing that last sentence is a crock of bullshit. My family is not here. My husband and kids are here, yes...but my family...the rest of my core that helped with all the crazy, was there for the ugly, or came for dinner, or joined you for a glass of wine, or just plain joined you while you folded laundry...are not here. They are all moving on with their lives...back home...not here.

I have been having a more difficult time than I ever imagined. I sort of hate myself for it. I am adventurous!! I am fun!! I like a challenge!!! Well, I already have a challenge in my almost 5 year old. I am fun. I am adventurous. But I live in a city that is an Adult play ground, and not a child's. Casinos and shows on the strip are SO FUN! If you are 18 and have a babysitter. My children are minors, and I have no sitter, unless you count PBS Vegas TV.

Depression has sunk in. It's something I have struggled with my entire adult life, and here it is again. Dark, and stormy, and full of futility and hopelessness. I'm being proactive though---therapists, taking my medicines, getting Sam lined up in the therapy/school department. It just feels like it isn't enough though. I am sad. Sad sad sad as I've ever been. I hate it. John doesn't know what to do. I don't know what to tell him to do. And so, I sit...every evening, while the kids and spouse are in bed, and question myself as to what I can do to shake this soon.

I hate it. I hate being and feeling completely alone on an island in the middle of the desert.

I'm slowly meeting people. I don't foresee myself feeling "settled" until we get into our house...hopefully in a few months. Foreclosures suck, too. Nevada, and Vegas, and foreclosures, and moving, and being lonely...sucks. I hold out hope that it gets better soon. That's really all you can do sometimes...I am not in control of anything except how I feel about things....and as long as I do my best to change what I can control, I can accept what I cannot control.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

It's been a shit-tacular week here. Just lots of behavior problems, sleep issues with everyone, and my spouse has been working a lot. I still have yet to meet a whole lot of people here, so the seclusion has been getting to me and I might be going a little bit cray cray.

Today, I took the kids to the complex swimming pool, much like I do at least 4 times per week. It was a beautiful 97 degrees and breezy, so I thought we would enjoy many hours splashing and expelling energy. Twenty minutes into it, the kids wanted to get into the hot tub. In the summer. In Las Vegas.

I tried to be reasonable, and said "10 minutes." So, I set my timer, and even gave the appropriate prompts for Sam. At the end of 10 minutes, he refused to get out. "No. No minutes. I'm staying." I calmly threw down the "count to three and then we go home" gauntlet. No dice.

So mama counted to three, and with every number announced, my blood pressure raised about 100 points. At three, I went to grab him, and he went to the middle. So I got in and got him, said "time to dry off" and put him on the concrete. He ran to the pool and jumped in, swimming to the middle.

Mama lost her shit. I got in, and dragged him to the side, and out of the pool. He kicked and screamed as I put his water shoes on him, gathered our things, and dragged him out of the pool area. I am pretty sure that most of the patrons enjoying the pool saw more of my chest then they had ever intended on seeing. I managed to say few words until he started laying on sidewalk instead of walking beside me. Then I freaked the F out.

Bad call in the autism book, bad call in the parenting book, bad call all around. But he pushed my last freaking button, and I was done.

I basically dragged him home, along with a pool bag and another 3 year old who was pissed at her brother for "ruining everything again."

So now, I've turned on the TV, locked myself on the patio, and am currently drinking straight vodka out of a high heeled shoe.

A scene was caused today, but as Las Vegas and myself say, the house always wins kid. (Or at least we like to think we do. Shit, man. This sucks.)

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Sam's autistic behaviors have come to the forefront since we packed up our stuff and drove 23 hours to a new place. Thankfully, he was comfortable in "Daddy's apartment", but getting him to go anywhere else has been a lesson in patience and trust. Before we go anywhere, I have to announce what we are doing. "We are going to X, Y, and Z." If Sam approves, he is like Ok! Yeah! Let's go! If he does not approve, he kicks and hits and screams NO!! and repeats "No X! No X! No X! Sometimes X is a mundane "I need milk, we are going to the grocery store, kid." But, if he doesn't want to go, I either have to endure A: The shit fit of all shit fits on the way to X,Y or Z or B: Stay home and seethe anger at my anxiety riddled child. Most of the time we go with option A and bring a big dose of patience, but since I am also new here, sometimes it just isn't worth it. I hate to admit it, but I am seething rage right now as I write this blog.

I'm losing my ever-loving mind. I know it isn't his fault. Still, I don't have girlfriends here that I can sit around a table with that have known him his whole life to tell me "he's going to be OK, you are all going to be OK. Now let's hug and toast how hard it is to raise children!" I have me, and my 3 year old daughter who thinks it is unfair that Sam's moods dictate our activities (I cannot say I blame her, as I feel the same way). Oh yeah, and my workaholic husband.

Sam cannot get into his developmental psychiatrist until the middle of July, and his regular pediatrician refuses to tinker with his medicines; he'd rather the psych handle it. Again, I understand. I just wish someone could throw me a bone with this kid right now.

Monday, May 28, 2012

This weekend was a pretty good one, looking back on it. We discovered more of our new city, took the kids to the children's museum and Freemont Street, and spent lots of time sunning and splashing at the pool. Hubs and I spent a lot of time together just talking and re-learning to be married to each other again. All in all, good stuff.

But something was missing from our weekend. Camaraderie. The kids didn't splash and play with their bestest friends, and we didn't sit around The Flying Fork's pool chatting and laughing and eating and drinking and laughing and laughing and laughing with our friends. They had their wonderful inaugural pool weekend, and we missed out on it. The children often asked this weekend where Jessie or KatieJill or Johnny or Aunt Megan was, and it broke my heart to say "we don't live near them anymore."

We are looking forward to meeting people here, and I anticipate that as that happens, the kids won't ask so much about friends and family back home. However, for this first holiday for us away from everything that was normal on this weekend was just weird and sad.

Monday, May 21, 2012

So, I have officially been a resident of Nevada for what now? Four days? I've been out exploring, shopping, buying stuff, and tooling around. Moving away from my totally awesome and fantastic life in Kansas has been terribly difficult for me, even though my family is now all together and all that jazz. In an effort to keep my face out of a quart of ice cream a day while slugging around in a pitted out t-shirt, I have been compiling a list of pros and cons to this drastic change in social life, climate, and region.

Nevada Pros
1.Um...yeah. I can see the strip from my house. And from Costco. And from Target. Adult playground is a literal 5 minute drive.

2. Produce prices are much cheaper here, believe it or not, and you don't pay taxes on food. Hey, I'm a stay home parent...and I love to grocery shop. It's akin to "50% off everything at Nordstroms" for those of you who don't cook.

3. YOU CAN BUY WINE AT THE GROCERY STORE!! AND FOR MUCH CHEAPER! "Honey, I need you to pick me up some yogurt, juice boxes, Bota Boxes, and broccoli on your way home. Thanks"

4. We can buy 100% more house here for the same amount of money. I feel bad for the folks who got hosed when the housing bubble burst, but I am also super excited about a house big enough for my family and guests to be comfortable.

5. Cliche time!!!!!! The heat? It is dry. Like, you can go outside and walk around without looking like a wet dog in 10 seconds. No more 4000% humidity.

6. My husband is here. The kids missed him so much, and it makes me smile that they are so happy to be back with dad. I like it because I can get out of the house at night without paying someone 10 bucks an hour. Winning!

7. Five hours from the ocean and Disneyland. Tons of National Parks within a weekend drive. We's gonna do some 'splorin', kids.

Nevada Cons
1. Goes without saying, but I miss EVERYONE. My family, my friends, Downtown Dennis pushing his baby stroller down Mass Street while dressed as a cat. My heart hurts, I miss everyone so much. If I had magic powers I would bring them all here....hey! You know what? Lance Burton lives up the mountain from my new house, maybe I can take over a casserole.....

2. There is a law in Nevada against talking on your cell phone while driving. Yes, I know it is safer than careening down a highway while coffee talking, but do you realize how hard it is? Old habits die hard, and I have already plugged "Hot Mess Cell Phone Tickets" into our budget.

3. Astro-turf lawns. Really? Who though this was a good idea? WTF? It gets super balls ass hot, too. Just like the concrete. And your car. Hot plastic lawn...hawt.

4. Gasoline prices. Balls. Enough said.

5. Smog, and requisite smog checks. That beautiful haze in the distance? It isn't a mirage. It's pollution. And, because me and my SUV are part of that lovely cloud, I get to have emissions testing on my car every year when I renew my car tags. Kansas didn't have smog...the haze in the distance was cow fart.

6. Car Insurance prices. People here drive like bat shit crazy lunatics, and it is reflected in "holy shit, this is double!" car insurance.

This is just a small list, which I am sure will grow on both fronts as the weeks wane on. Pros vs. Cons for now are a draw. Break even. Not the best bet, but not a loser either.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Hello friends! Long time no see. The Hot Mess Express rolled into Las Vegas on Friday, and we've been busy getting settled in. It's weird to me that we are living in a place that Hubs and I used to go to for vacation...now we are here minus the plans to stay up until 3am rolling craps at MGM and drinking vodka sodas until we can no longer stand up. Today I went to the grocery store and Costco. Cuh-razy Vegas living, no?

Anyway, the process of packing up our life and schlepping it across the U.S. taught me some things. :)

1. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT let your husband be in charge of a moving company, or the packing process. Mine sent the contents of my entire kitchen from Kansas to our 12 cabinet temporary apartment here. So now, my already tiny apartment dining room has a beautiful wall of brown boxes marked "china" and "stemware" and "service ware". I do not plan to throw dinner parties in my two bedroom apartment Hubs. WTF? :)

2. Monitor the liquids consumption of your toddlers on the road. Sixty four ounces of water/juice/soda/Manhattans means that I am certain I have seen every truck stop bathroom from Kansas to Nevada. Every. Single. One.

3. In a pinch, Fiber One bars can pass as a candy bar for your family. But, they also pass as something else a bit later.

4. Pack for the apocalypse. The children's drawers of clothing arrived at the apartment, but my socks and underwear are somewhere in 2 storage units...or a trucker's suitcase. *shudder* Creepy! Anyhoo, thank baby Jesus for Target.

5. There is no forest in the Petrified Forest National Park. There are, however, really beautiful desert landscapes, and petrified wood. Don't ask my kids though, because they couldn't be bothered to get out and look at million year old rock formations and trees. They wanted to eat Cheetos and watch Mickey Mouse.

6.According to my 3 year old, Oklahoma smells like goats. She must have been asleep on the drive through New Mexico.

I feel like I am completely starting over with my life, and the life of my kids. Our first night here, we took the kids to a casino to eat at a buffet. Might as well get them off on the right foot, no?

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Welp, the stars aligned this week friends. Not only did we buy a house in Nevada, but we sold ours here! Woo to the freaking hoo! I was starting to think it would never happen.

The flip side of this is...well, I have to leave my town. I love it here. Best city in Kansas, hands down. Lawrence and Mrs. Hot Mess are synonymous with a lot of my friends and family, co-workers and bartenders. I am sick to leave...but there are way crappier places to have to relocate, no?

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Once again, I have slacked on this blog. I am sorry. And once again, I will give you all the quick update.

1. Our house is still on the market. Blerg.
2. Said house needs foundation work, starting next week (as long as the rain holds off). Cha-ching. Do you hear that? It's the sound of my nest egg going up in smoke.
3. Sloane turned 3, it was fun and her cake was awesome.
4. Sam is still in therapy, though we are due to get a med check, since he is not sleeping and he's lashing out (mainly at me).
5. John loves his job.
6. Being a single parent sucks monkey nuts. Big time.
7. Go KU. Final Four, baby.
8. Being a single parent still sucks monkey nuts.

That's pretty much the short of it all. Things are busy here for sure.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

I am a social person. Very. When I became a stay at home parent, it was SO HARD at first. What? I get to stay home all day hooked up to a milk machine with a tiny screaming baby? This is my life? It was a time of much transition for me. I've gotten better about not having to see people every day, but I would still consider myself more social than most.

Since my husband left for the desert a month ago, my social life has taken a very sharp nosedive. We are maintaining 2 homes and saving for the "big move" and all that jazz, so the awesome sitter that I have cannot be called at every dinner invite and Girls Night Out. It has been hard. My husband did a wonderful job of seeing the look of despair on my face certain nights, and was more than happy to say "why don't you go to Starbucks or call your friend to go get wine, darling?" And I was out the door before he finished the sentence. My children see this look and just scream louder for MORE CHOCO MILK PLEEEEZ MOM!

I am also really bad at asking for help from people. Family, friends, it doesn't matter. I have lived most of my life being the person who can juggle 12 balls in the air and not drop them. There are days lately that I feel like I am totally flailing and dropping multiple balls, and I am too proud to call and ask someone to watch the kids before I rip their darling faces off. Though we are in different spots in our child rearing years, it is apparent that I am not alone. I need to get out of here!

The problem is, it can be a vicious cycle. I need to get out, but I am so stressed and tired and frazzled and just plain depressed that I don't want to go anywhere. I don't want to call friends, or eat out, or go to the park. I want to sit here and cry about how freaking hard it is right now.

It isn't healthy. Tomorrow, I vow to get out, even if it's just to a friends to let my kids run and scream and destroy someone else's house (sorry Jessie). Maybe. Probably. I hope so.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Our house is currently on the market. Here's a typical day in my life these days.

-Wake up way too early, to feed, clothe and get kids to school. (Hubs always did the feed part, and I am no morning person)
-Schlep kid to school, scramble to run as many errands as I can before it's time for pick up. If I am lucky, I can get a work out in at the gym (HA HA HA).
-Come home, feed kids (again) and pick up house.
-Watch children destroy house before my eyes.
-Cry
-Pick up house again.
-Watch kids destroy house before my eyes.
-Start dinner
-Get phone call from realtor saying she wants to show the house at 6, and is that ok?
-Throw raw dinner in fridge, scramble to pick up house again.
-Load dogs, two kids, loveys into car.
-Drive to McDonalds to get kids happy meal while we drive around for an hour.
-Bring kids home for snack (feeding time again, you know)
-Watch kids destroy house before my eyes.
-Put kids to bed, say to hell with the mess, and pour 32oz. glass of wine.
-Stay up too late reading trashy books.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

For most parents, holiday parties at school are a wonderful, fun thing that brings excitement and joy to children.

For me, it is hell. Sam was worked up before we even left the house today. He kept saying we were going to a Valentine's party, which we were, but it was at his school. His school party. He didn't understand, so he was mad about it, thrashing and screaming, refusing to get dressed, etc. He cried as I drug him into school with his treats and valentines, and hit me one last time before his para whooshed him away to get busy on something.

I'm told that he had a very good day at school, and was happy and singing and lovely. I know this much about my son: if kids around him are excited and rambunctious, he has learned to internalize his anxiety and stress.

Well, take a guess as to when that anxiety and stress comes out.....at home. Ever since he arrived home today, Sam has been a hot mess. He is disagreeable, angry, whiny, and awful. Today, I got the kids a heart shaped pizza from Papa Murphy's. Things were going OK until he spilled his milk. Keep in mind that we spill our milk about every day at my house, so it really isn't a big deal...oops, clean it up, back to usual. Well today Sam was distraught. He threw his pizza, threw his still-half-full cup of milk at me, and charged his sister. All because of milk.

I do not like to reward bad behavior, and so his milk and pizza were taken away. Sam has to be disciplined differently than Sloane. I will not tolerate him harming his sister, and though I am a bit grateful that he usually seeks me out to hit instead of a peer, I am also growing tired of being charged at.

I guess what I am saying is, something so happy and fun as a small holiday party at school can mean chaos for the rest of our day. I really love all things celebratory, but one thing in his schedule is interrupted, and the rest of the day goes to hell in a hand basket. I know he's still learning to deal with things, and hopefully one day we can enjoy these little parties and activities in our life. It's another check off the list of "things I was really looking forward to doing with my son, but didn't work out."

For now, Sloane and I put on our riot gear and wait out the storm. It's not fair to her, it isn't fair to any of us. But this is the life of a family dealing with autism.

And now, I am off to find myself a xanax. Happy Valentine's Day everyone.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

My friend Megan is, indeed, the luckiest bitch in the world. You see, she wanted a new house, and found one, and then a neighborhood old man just knocked on her door and wanted to buy her house. No realtor, no open house, none of that. I hate her.

Our house is listed currently, which means I have to keep it at least 80% "show room" ready all the time. Ha. Ha. What an exercise in futility. I have two children and 3 pets. Regardless, I do try as hard as I can to keep it tidy enough that if I get a call for a showing, I can throw clutter in a laundry basket, load up the troops, and get the hell out in plenty of time. Febreeze? It's a wonderful thing.

But you know what? I am getting tired of this shit. I hate that I have to make it look like nobody lives here. Dude, we LIVE here. It's hard to explain to the kids why I don't want to play with their 5000 piece bead set, or truck out the Moon Sand (that shit is the devil, btw). Tomorrow we have a realtor open house, where area realtors come over and eat at our house, look around, and then hopefully tell all of their clients that my house is the best one in the entire world and you need to go buy it RIGHT THIS INSTANT.

Someone buy this house before I lose my mind. I'm starting to dream of cleaning all of the things, and I cringe every time my kids say "uh-oh." And, we are dangerously low on Febreeze.

Monday, February 6, 2012

I've heard many tales of families who have a white elephant-esque item that gets wrapped and passed around the family during Christmas. One of my friends passed around her cut off pony tail for years.

My family recently got into some hilarious sneaky swapping that strikes when you least expect it.

It's the fruitcake that keeps on giving. :)

My parents got a fruitcake from a friend for the holiday season. It is a fruitcake that conforms perfectly to the stereotype: full of gummy fruits, solid, dry, and gross. When they unwrapped it, us kids were all there, and were laughing hysterically about how nasty and gross fruitcake is. My dad tried it, said yuck, and then *said* that he was going to take it out to the trash in the garage. The sneaky little man took it out to my car, and stuffed it into one of our bags we had loaded for the drive home. Imagine my surprise and subsequent laughter at unloading bags and finding an aluminum foil brick in one of them. :) This was war.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago, my parents were in town visiting. I went out to get the paper on the day they left, cruised past my freezer that held the fruitcake, and stuffed it in the back seat of their car. They called me rolling as soon as they got home too.

This past weekend, we were back home visiting the folks. My sister Meg became the lucky recipient of the brick fruitcake. She has declared that it will be coming to someone when they least expect it...and so the swap continues.

I think it's hilarious, and such a fun way to play a practical joke on our family members. Keep an eye on your belongings at all times and lock your car...the Hot Mess family is planting fruitcake bombs.

Monday, January 30, 2012

My daughter is now almost 3, and she is the most outgoing kid I have ever met. Happy, opinionated, POTTY TRAINED!!!! (woo woo!) and just all around a pain in my ass. :)

Today, she gave me a heart attack.

My mom used to tell me stories of how, when I was a kid, I was a hider. They locked down the Oklahoma City mall once looking for me, and I was enjoying a make believe picnic between the clothes racks at the JCPenney. I also got lost at Sea World or Six Flags or some amusement park equivalent. I remember being 15 and laughing SO much about how funny that must have been for my mom. She was not impressed.

Pay backs are hell.

Today, I was at the grocery store, mailing off some super important document that my now Vegas-residing husband HAD TO HAVE RIGHT THIS MINUTE. GO NOW AND DO IT!!! So, I schlepped my kids up to the store to their post office kiosk. Since we were only going to be there a minute, I bypassed the carts. It would take 2 seconds. No biggie.

Well, in that 2 seconds, I managed to lose my daughter...or more so, she lost me. I looked down the check out aisles, and over by the videos thinking "she couldn't have gone too far in 2 seconds." Couldn't find her. Blood pressure rising, I called out her name. No response. So I started looking a bit farther from the post office, and couldn't find her there, either. Now it was a Code Red, all out panic. I found the manager, and he put the store on lock down looking for my kid. The clerks all stopped what they were doing to look for her. I was close to hysterics.

Three minutes later, they found her. In the bakery aisle. Trying to sweet talk some old lady for a cookie from the free sample bin.

Friday, January 27, 2012

For the next few weeks, this place will probably be where I go to help navigate my huge "let's move across the country" life change. Just so you know. ;)

John left today. It went about as well as it could have, with a few last minute cluster f#$ks. You know, best laid plans and all that. My head light was burned out this morning when I left to take Sam to school, so in John's last ditch effort to be Man Of The House, he decided he would fix it before he left. It took both of us to do it, and my hands were smaller, so they could maneuver the tight space easier. Suffice it to say, I ended up doing most of the light bulb installation. It's almost like it was preparation for the weeks to come...John wanting to come do the things I don't want to do, but not being able to, and me having to put on my Big Girl Pants and do it myself.

I do not like to be alone. John will tell you that one of our first serious conversations started with "I do not like to sleep alone." And I do not. And tonight, for the first of many nights in a row, I will crawl into my bed without my best friend next to me. I know that it is temporary, and that the end result will be that we all end up in the desert together, happy and safe and sound. But tonight? Tonight I am heartbroken. I miss my husband, and do not look forward to being the 100%, around the clock, only care provider for my household.

Life sometimes sucks. A lot of times, though, the sucky times in life are what define and shape our relationships. They make them stronger. They make us more appreciative of the roles played in our family. They make the love grow when you thought your heart was at capacity. They make you put on your Big Girl Pants and do what it right for your family, even if it isn't ideal.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Hubs leaves Friday. We recited our vows again by our garden pond tonight, just like we did on a very rainy day almost 6 years ago. Cheers to new beginnings, but I will always have heart strings attached to that spot in our yard here. For better or worse, in comfort and in new adventure. I ♥ you, John.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Many of you know we have a son with autism. He's doing really, really well, and I am thankful that he is on the higher functioning side of the spectrum. It could be so much more difficult for us. We still have our days, but the really difficult ones are not as frequent since Sam began therapy.

This PSA really spoke to me, though. Autism knows no socioeconomic boundaries. Rich, poor, famous or infamous, everyone has the same chance of having a child with autism: 1 in 110. Staggering.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

My husband was offered a really great job opportunity recently. He's been unhappy at his job for quite some time, and a recent meeting with the big wigs of the old company was the sign from Grilled Cheezus that it was time for Hubs to start putting feelers out. Well, feel no more. He's been offered, and has accepted a new position, which he starts the 30th of January.

Yes. That is in a mere 25 days.

Twenty five days to get this house in tip top, "please buy me" mode. Twenty five days to try and find a place to live. Oh yeah, and an interstate, 1300 mile move.

Twenty five days to say goodbye to 25 years of friendships, old haunts, favorite spots, and family.

I waffle between being really excited, and being totally scared. I love it here in my comfortable spot. I also love a new adventure.

I am a sort of hip, sort of cool, Midwest-transplanted-to-Vegas stay at home mom, with two really well behaved kids. Okay...mostly behaved kids....*sigh* okay they are bad sometimes...geez, get over yourself. Nobody's perfect.